


Rosarot, oh Rosarot

by Wahnsinn



Series: Rammstein requests [10]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Punishment, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26710354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wahnsinn/pseuds/Wahnsinn
Summary: A domestic mishap leads to a colourful punishment.
Relationships: Paul Landers/Christoph Schneider | Doom
Series: Rammstein requests [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689187
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Rosarot, oh Rosarot

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the monthly challenge of the Rammstein+ Discord server where the September prompt was an assigned colour.

“CHRISTOPH!”

The anger in Paul’s voice startled Schneider. He looked up from the newspaper, only to see his husband stomping into the room, holding something in his arms. “What’s wrong?” he asked nervously. Paul had been grumpy lately. Schneider had tried not to provoke him, deliberately keeping his distance even though he missed their closeness. It hadn't really helped Paul's mood, and now, Paul seemed downright furious.

“This is what’s wrong!” Paul hissed, throwing the piece of fabric he was holding straight at Schneider’s face. It was wet and cold against his skin. Schneider groaned and calmly put the newspaper down on the table next to him.

Removing the fabric from his face, he untangled it and held it up. It looked familiar. In fact, it looked just like Paul’s favourite shirt, just that something was very off. “Um, what happened to your shirt?” he wondered.

“You happened! You put your new, red socks in the washer with my white clothes!” Paul fumed.

“Oh. Oops. Sorry.” Schneider swallowed. He had assumed it was an all black wash as usual, and he hadn’t bothered to check before throwing some dirty clothes straight into the washing machine earlier in the morning. Looking at Paul’s shirt, he probably should have - no, he _definitely_ should have checked.

“It’s very - pink,” he mumbled apologetically.

Paul crossed his arms angrily. “No shit, Sherlock. And guess what, all the other clothes are also pink.”

Schneider felt bad. He knew that Paul always took good care of his clothes. Once he had taken a liking to something, he would wear it until it almost fell apart.

The shirt was one of the pieces Paul absolutely treasured. They had been on their honeymoon when he saw the model displayed in the window of a tiny tailor store, and he had fallen in love with it immediately. The tailor had taken Paul’s measures and finished it while they were still there. Schneider remembered how happy Paul had been when it was finally done and how wonderful he had looked when he wore it for the first time as they walked hand in hand, barefoot on an endless beach, just the two of them, two men that had promised to love each other forever.

“I’m really sorry,” he said quietly. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Paul frowned. “You can take it to a cleaner and see if they can save it."

“Of course. I’ll do anything.” Schneider looked miserable.

“Anything?” Paul perked an eyebrow.

“Anything,” Schneider confirmed.

A smile spread on Paul’s face. “I think I know how you can make it up to me,” he grinned.

\-- 

“Really, Paul?” Schneider whined.

The drummer hadn’t thought it was possible for Paul’s grin to be wider than it was when he told him about the punishment he had come up with for ruining his clothes. He was wrong.

“It’s perfect.” Paul’s smile was now threatening to split his head in two.

Schneider looked at himself in the mirror again. From head to toe, he was dressed in hot pink. He wore loose, pink trousers with a crisp press fold, a pink two-button blazer, a pink tie, and a slightly lighter pink shirt.

“I can’t go to rehearsal like this. Please don’t make me go out like this! I look like the poodle from our Pussy single. The others are going to laugh their asses off,” he begged.

“Should have thought of that before you messed up my clothes!” Paul remarked, running his fingers through Schneider’s long, curly hair. “Now let’s go. And by the way, that poodle was pretty fabulous.”

“Fabulous,” Schneider muttered.

\-- 

“Fabulous!” Till howled, almost falling off his chair laughing.

“I know you two are openly gay, but damn, I didn’t know you were _that_ open,” Richard smirked.

Flake just glared at Schneider with a mixture of disbelief and fascination.

“Can we just get started,” Schneider sighed, awkwardly fumbling with his drumsticks. The pink from his clothes reflected in the metal of his drums, and it was already distracting him. All he wanted to do was get the rehearsal over with, and then get home and…

“You remember that we’re going out tonight after rehearsal, right?” Oliver casually remarked as he tuned his bass.

Schneider froze. It had totally slipped his mind. Glancing over at Paul, he noticed that his husband had definitely not forgotten about it. Paul was wiggling his eyebrows at him, and Schneider wished a hole would open up in the ground and swallow him.

It was not like he was afraid of showing his sexuality openly. Rammstein had always been an open-minded band, even singing songs about homosexuality, and their bandmates had been nothing but supportive when he and Paul decided to break the news. The wedding had been a dream of a celebration with their closest friends and family, and Till had even cried a bit when they gave their vows.

While the press had given them quite some attention, the otherwise critical journalists had, for once, given them nothing but praise. Both Schneider and Paul were happy to do a small part in normalising homosexuality, and they were touched by heartfelt messages from fans saying how much it meant to them.

The problem was that Schneider just didn’t like to dress flamboyantly in private. Back in the day, he had worn a lot of rather questionable outfits. When he looked at pictures from that time, he often wondered what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. As he got older, he toned it down. Schneider did acknowledge that he was a public person, and on stage, he could probably wear anything, or nothing, for that matter. Though when he was just Christoph, Paul’s husband, he wanted to blend in.

“Of course he remembers, right Christoph?” Paul cackled and patted his back. “He has even dressed up for the occasion!”

If looks could kill, Paul would be in trouble. Fortunately, Schneider’s death stare only made the guitarist even more chipper, and Schneider was happy when they finally started playing.

\-- 

Schneider had never dreaded the end of a rehearsal before. Though now, he wished they would keep playing forever. He could deal with Till’s giggles whenever he turned to look at him, Richard’s jokes, and Paul’s playful pinching of his butt as often as he could. However, the thought of going out in public in the hot pink suit made him so uncomfortable that he missed his cue several times.

“Let’s just call it. Schneider seems a little distracted,” Till grunted after the drummer had missed yet another break.

“No, sorry, I can do it! Let's just go again!” Schneider tried, but the others were already turning off their amps and putting their gear away.

“It’s okay, Schneider. I can see you’re eager to get out and show the world your suit,” Richard smirked.

Schneider groaned, but reluctantly put his drumsticks away.

“Don’t forget your blazer!” Paul chirped, handing Schneider the jacket he had put on the floor next to him.

Snatching it out of Paul’s hand, Schneider grumpily put it back on. Paul gently brushed away a little dust from the shoulder before holding out his arm.

“Time to go, sweetie,” he grinned.

Schneider rolled his eyes, but accepted his husband’s arm, silently cursing Paul for his cruel punishment.

\-- 

“You are an evil, evil man.” Schneider flopped down on the couch, stretching out to rest his tired legs. It had been a long night. After the rehearsal, the band had eaten at a nice restaurant before heading to a club where they spent the rest of the evening.

“You know you liked it.” Paul straddled his husband and bent down to give him a quick kiss on the mouth.

Schneider huffed. As soon as they got out of the rehearsal room, it had started. People had turned their heads when he walked past. Some had whistled loudly. He even got a few cat calls. The waiter at the restaurant had winked at him, and at the club, he had been hit on by at least five different men.

Strangely enough, Schneider _had_ liked it. He knew Paul loved him, but the attention from other men had made him feel so wanted, so desired - so attractive. And once he got over the initial embarrassment, he had totally owned his look, smiling and flirting whenever someone came around.

After a while, Paul had even looked a little jealous. He had made sure to hold Schneider’s hand possessively, kissing him ever so often to make sure everyone knew that the fabulous man was _his_ man, and not someone free on the market.

“You know you look really hot in that - hot pink,” Paul purred, leaning down for a longer kiss.

Schneider closed his eyes and let his hands slide onto Paul’s butt. When they first got together, they could hardly keep their hands off each other. After they had settled into domestic life, the sex had become less frequent. It had actually been a while since the last time, and even longer since Paul had come at him like this. He had really missed it.

“Perhaps I should destroy your clothes more often,” Schneider mumbled to himself as he felt his husband’s hands sliding across his chest.

“Did you say something?” Paul looked down at him, his eyes full of love and desire.

“Nothing,” Schneider smiled, and pulled Paul closer for yet another wonderful, hot kiss.

  


**Author's Note:**

> My assigned colour was [#de4fd1](https://www.color-hex.com/color/de4fd1), and the title is intentional. Any feedback is, as always, welcome. Thank you for reading.


End file.
